You know how, when there’s a pandemic, and a government enforced lockdown…your focus tends to be on BLOODY HELL WILL WE GET OUR SUPERMARKET DELIVERY! WILL WE ACTUALLY GET WHAT WE ORDERED! Our anticipation was rewarded with a prompt delivery by one of the giants among UK supermarket chains. I was waiting for biscuits, among other things. Fairly bland, boring biscuits, but as a chronically ill person, this is quite exciting! A switch from my beloved almond-embracing biscotti to some nice, new, fairly banal biscuits that don’t contain nuts. Perhaps these will be the answer! The trays were stacked on our driveway, with the driver keeping a very safe distance.
Ah!! The biscuits!! Hang on! My husband, let’s call him Pluto, utters a gruff sound of disgruntlement and chucks the holy discs of potential joy onto the ground! What! Why the hell would Pluto do that? Turns out, they’re basted and coated with some kind of nasty detergent, bleach or cleaning agent. Now, I could only rely on his word as I have zero sense of smell these days. I may have Covid-19, that’s possible. Pluto has the same bug as me, and we are enduring the trudge through the valley of infection with fluctuating levels of patience. He has the ability to smell a chemical-warfare level of scent. I can smell absolutely nothing, regardless of how severe the odour may be. I couldn’t even smell a fire-hot turd hung off my nose, not even if a monkey flung a fresh one with the strength of an industrial crane straight at my currently-redundant nose. Well, I really can’t detect a thing. Nothing! All I could sense by sight was a weird, thick yellow coating on the biscuit packaging. Bear with me, this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in a few hours. Plus I have spent ages creating this website for your enjoyment. Have a heart, love.
Sadly, these afflicted baked joys cannot be saved. Like the cake that got left in the rain, like the toast that lands with the buttered side down, like the roast that burns into cinders in the oven, these too have found their way to the bin. I’m not sure that eating poisonous detergents or cleaning agents is helpful to anyone, not even people with some kind of freaky flu or coronavirus. Sigh. The next delivery is several days away. I must remember to tell you about the previous delivery, that was even more exciting. By the way, if you’re being picky and judgey and consider my precious words to be lacking in any way, then let me remind you that apart from wall to wall news bulletins and studying the four walls of the room you’re in, there is little else to do. Reading such scintillating stories is a means to survival, or so I tell myself when I write them. Haha.
